White Knights and Drunken Misdemeanors
by DevinBourdain
Summary: A night out after a long day at work takes a bad turn leaving Chip to take care of a friend. Warnings: dicusses abuse.


Disclaimer: The Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea characters are not mine, just borrowed for this story.

Reviews are always welcome.

White Knights and Drunken Misdemeanors

The end of a long work day had come to a close and Crane's red Cobra pulled into the parking lot of The Bucket Bar and Grill, or as the poorly maintained lit sign suggested, T ucket Ba and ril. Rock music filtered through the door and into the cold night. The front windows of the bar were obscured by a row of motorcycles lined up in front of the building.

Chip Morton climbed out of the passenger side and zipped up his jacket in an effort to ward off the damp chill of the night. He surveyed the scene before him and whistled. "The name didn't sell the place, and so far, the appearance is making me rethink dinner with you."

Lee smiled as he took in their location. "Don't judge a book by its cover. It's supposed to have the best steak dinner in town."

"They didn't happen to mention what kind of meat the steak is did they, 'cause I'm not in the mood for road kill tonight."

"Maybe it's really nice on the inside. Where's your sense of adventure? You said you wanted to try some place new for dinner, and this is some place new," Crane tried to reassure his friend.

Not buying Lee's optimism one bit, Chip replied, "please tell me you told the Admiral where he could find our bodies when we don't show up for work tomorrow."

"Relax, I'm sure it will be fine," offered Crane as he placed a reassuring hand on Chip's shoulder. "Besides, you're with a highly trained professional agent. What could go wrong?"

Morton surveyed the clientele that was staggering around the parking lot. "Ya, I think these people are professionals too."

It had been a Thursday crammed full of meetings, none of which seemed to go well. Deciding his friend needed a drink and a good meal, Lee had offered to take his exec out to unwind. A couple friends and associates of his had highly recommend this place, but based on what he'd seen so far, he had to agree with his grumpy XO's assessment.

They grabbed a table near the back and ordered a round of beers. Chip peeled his coaster off of the questionable table and gave Lee a disgusted look. The waitress didn't so much as hand them their drinks and menus as chucked them in their general direction and disappeared into the arms of one of the other patrons by the pool table.

"_Good idea _Lee. So glad we could experience this. I'm sure the rats have higher standards than to be here."

"We're here now, so just try and make the best of it."

Truth was Morton had been a fountain of grumpy negativity all week and Lee thought it was high time to turn it around. Besides, he didn't want to spend their next cruise locked in a confined space for ten days with an irritated, highly combative exec. It would be a tough mission, but he had five days to perk Chip up. So far, it wasn't going well.

The pair engaged in work-free conversation, ignoring the rowdy group that was table dancing and playing beer pong. The large cheer caught Crane's attention and he glanced towards the bar to where a large crowd was gathering.

Still gaping, Lee asked, "is that who I think it is?"

The blond turned his head towards the scene unfolding behind him. Not sure specifically who in the crowd Crane was referring he turned back to face his friend.

The Captain pointed above the crowd to the woman dancing on the bar. Morton glanced back in that direction and almost fell off of his chair. Eyes still wide with disbelief, he turned back to Crane and replied, "it most certainly is!"

There, in all her drunken glory, was Nelson's personal assistant. Oblivious to her friends at the back table, she continued to shimmy her way back and forth across the bar to the thrill of the crowd. She was definitely dressed for a night out at the bar wearing a sparkly white backless shirt, tight black pants and high heeled boots, definitely not the professional assistant they knew and loved.

Lee glanced at his watch to check that it was indeed only nine o'clock, and not closing time, as his colleague's drunken state would suggest. "We should probably get her out of here," suggested Lee; Nelson's lectures about keeping their private lives out of the paper for the professional appearance of the Institute running through his head. Not to mention their friend's embracement level should this stunt become common knowledge.

Morton's only response was, "oh my god!" He knew Ryan liked the bar scene. Hell he'd even been out with her drinking a few times, but this display was like watching a giraffe walk on its hind legs: inconceivable. He followed Crane through the crowd until they were right against the bar. The song had ended and Ryan was presently sitting on the counter doing shots.

"Ryan . . ." said Crane.

She looked up and plastered a big smile on her face. "Leeeeeeeeee, Chips-Ahoy! Come h-here . . . to join . . . to join the part-party," came the slurred greeting.

Chip eyed his friend up carefully and let Crane lead the conversation. This wasn't like her at all.

"No, but I think you should maybe come home with us! You're kind of making a public display and you know how the Admiral feels about our personal lives being public gossip."

Shooting the Captain a dirty look, Ryan hopped off the bar and began to rant, "is the national inquirer here?"

"No."

"Then I guess since you're neither my employer nor my father, you've got nothing to say. Now if you're not here to have a good time, I suggest you leave and quit ruining it for everyone else!"

Ryan pushed past the pair in an effort to continue on with her night, but Lee grabbed her shoulder to stop her from leaving.

She turned around and hissed, "let go of me!"

The words were cold and serious. It was very clear that she neither wished for nor wanted their help tonight. Not wanting to stay and watch the display of drunken stupidity, Crane waved Morton to follow him out. Both knew there was nothing, no matter how well intentioned, they could say that was going to get through to her.

They made it out to the parking lot when Chip stopped short. Ryan hadn't looked good and her make-up job wasn't doing nearly as good a job at keeping her secret as she probably would have liked. It was going to be a fight, but he wasn't going to leave her like that. He owed her that much.

Lee stopped and turned to look at Chip. He wasn't thrilled about the current turn of events, but like it or not, she was an adult, and capable of making her own decisions, good or bad.

"I can't leave her here like that Lee," the exec said.

Lee smiled and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his keys and tossed them to Chip. "Just make sure I get the car back before the end of the weekend."

"Thanks," called Morton as Crane walked over to a waiting cab leaving the situation in Chip's capable hands. The exec rolled the keys around in his hand as he took a moment to plan out his course of action; it was crude but there wasn't a lot of option. He let out a deep breath and started walking back to the bar as he committed to his plan.

He found her at a side table entertaining several local bar creeps with various drinking tricks. She had her back to the room and never saw Morton approach.

He shot the men at the table a look that told them that this was none of their business. "Excuse me gentlemen," and he bent over and threw Ryan over his shoulder. "It's time to leave," he said into her ear.

Completely unhappy with this turn of events, she began struggling in Morton's grip as he carried her out of the bar. The more she struggled, the tighter he held on.

"If you don't put me down, I'm going to scream bloody murder!"

"Go right ahead, be my guest," conceded Chip as he pushed open the bar door and strode through the parking lot to Crane's car. He unceremoniously dumped her into the passenger seat of the convertible and walked around to climb into the driver's seat.

"I _don't _need a white knight!" shouted Ryan, still glaring daggers at the driver, while she tried to open the door. After several failed attempts she managed to get the handle to cooperate and started to open the door.

Chip, who had managed to get the keys in the ignition, reached over and pulled the door shut keeping him companion in the vehicle. She proceeded to curse up a blue streak as he shrugged off her profanities and pulled out of the parking lot. The bar was located well out of the way and the drive back to Ryan's place was going to take awhile. When she final ran out of vulgar combinations, the pair sat in silence.

Ryan broke the silence several moments later. Her voice was calmer but there was still bite to it. "This could be considered kidnapping you know."

Morton kept his eyes on the road. He really didn't feel like getting into an argument with a drunk. Eventually, she grew tired of waiting for some kind of response from the driver and began to fidget in an unsuccessful attempt to get comfortable.

They pulled up and parked in front of Ryan's house. Chip shut the engine off and pocketed the keys. "Are you going to walk to the door or do I have to carry you in?" he asked. There was no anger or judgment in his voice, only quiet concern.

Ryan simply rolled her eyes and let out an exacerbated sigh. She crawled out of the passenger's side and staggered her way to the door. Morton trailed behind her. They got to the door and Ryan looked expectantly at her friend.

"Keys?" asked Chip.

Ryan shrugged her shoulders, and then promptly threw up in the bushes. It was going to be one of those nights. When she was done, she stood up and leaned against the cool siding of the house.

"There used to be one taped to the turtle over there," she mumbled.

Chip walked over to the flower bed and picked up the ceramic turtle. Sure enough a little brass key was taped to its underside. He opened the door and guided the inebriated young woman inside. Once in the living room, he turned on one of the tableside lamps, and Ryan winced as the bright light assaulted her eyes.

"Why don't you sit down before you fall down?" suggested the exec as he made his way to the kitchen. She surprisingly complied with his request without any objection. Morton opened the fridge and fished out a bottle of water, then started searching the cabinets for a bottle of painkillers. Having found the necessary supplies, he came back to the living room.

Ryan was curled up on the couch staring at nothing. She didn't even acknowledge Chip's presence as he placed the water and pills on the coffee table for her.

"Want to talk about it?" His words dripped with concern.

Ryan wiped a hand over her face in an effort to clear the unshed tears from her eyes and mumbled no as she picked up the water and tossed back the pills.

"Ok." Chip got up from his chair and pulled the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch down and wrapped it around Ryan. She closed her eyes, and whether she was really asleep or just feigning, he wasn't sure, but he'd give her a couple of hours before he carried her up to bed just in case.

Morton awoke feeling very uncomfortable; his neck was sore and his back ached. He still hadn't opened his eyes when he went to roll over, only to find that he wasn't at home in his bed. He hit the floor with a thud and found himself wedged between the coffee table and couch at Ryan's house. Blinking several times to get the sleep out of his eye, he picked himself up and plopped back onto the couch.

He glanced at his watch as the memory of last night caught up with him. He had slept in as it were, but it was still early, and he doubted that sleeping beauty would be joining the world of the living anytime soon. Seven am, it was time for a coffee.

Chip wandered into the kitchen and began rummaging through the cupboards in search of coffee and breakfast. He needed to talk to Ryan, preferably a sober Ryan, and even though she was likely to be uncooperative and grumpy when she woke up, he wasn't just going to let this go. It was going to be another long day, and this one just started.

After putting the coffee on, he went and grabbed the newspaper off the front doorstep. He also replaced the spare key from last night. Knowing the hangover his friend had in store, he tried to be as quiet as possible.

The morning eventually gave way to day, and at around eleven o'clock, the thuds of movement upstairs alerted the exec that his friend was awake.

After grabbing a pair of jeans and an old AC/DC t-shirt, Ryan went to the bathroom to raid the cabinet for some Advil. She splashed some water on her face, but didn't bother to remove the smudged eyeliner; it would help detract from the mark near her eye. The cool, hardwood floors felt nice against her bare feet as she made her way downstairs. The dull ache in the back of her head was a constant reminder of what happened last night, and the clanging in the kitchen was a warning of what was going to happen today.

Chip looked up from the pot of vegetable soup he was heating on the stove to take in Ryan's disheveled appearance. She was definitely dressed down from her usual office attire, her hair un-brushed and makeup smudged from the night before.

Chip gestured towards his eye, "you have a little something."

"What? You don't like my Courtney Love impression?"

"I would hope you'd inspire a little higher than Courtney Love," came the honest retort.

Ryan flopped down into the nearest chair and laid her head down on the kitchen table.

"I'm making some vegetable soup. Someone once told me it cured hangovers," offered Chip.

"You've done your good deed for the day. You can go home and add another merit badge to your Boy Scout sash. You got the drunk home; your services are no longer required," Ryan mumbled without raising her head.

_Yep, one of those days._ Chip decided before her appearance that he wasn't going to let her push him away.

"Shouldn't you be at work?"

"We called in sick," the exec answered.

"_We_?" Ryan raised her head. "People are going to start talking."

Morton shrugged his shoulders. "Let them."

He filled a bowl with the steaming soup and placed it on the table in front of Ryan. He then grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and handed it to her.

"Besides, I have some facts to gather that I can't get at work."

Ryan's glare came back along with the sarcastic tone. "Oh ya, and what did you learn last night?"

"That you have a vocabulary that could make a _sailor_ blush."

"If you don't like it, you can leave and go practice your Martha Stewart skills somewhere else," shouted Ryan and she pushed the bowl of soup away.

A screaming match wasn't going to solve anything, so Chip decided to forgo tact and just cut to the chase. "Who hit you?"

There was a moment of silence. Clearly, that hadn't been what she expected to be asked. It was only there for a second, but a slight shocked expression flashed across her face. "Who says anyone hit me?"

"Well, we don't have a lot of fist shaped doorknobs at the office, so . . ."

She eyed her companion carefully, trying to determine just how much he knew. A swell of panic started to rise in her and she began to calculate her options for possible getaways. There was no good answer to Chip's question and no lie convincing enough to make him believe some fairytale about it being a figment of his imagination no matter how desperately she wanted it to be a figment of hers.

The silence stretched on forever as Ryan looked everywhere but at Chip. Just when he thought she wasn't going to answer the question, he heard her soft whisper. He had to strain his ears to hear, but he wasn't going to ask her to repeat something that was so personal and hard to say in the first place.

"Kurt Nest, old boyfriend and long time family friend. We broke up my second year of college. He's friends with my brother, so we've seen each other a few times over the years, not that often since I moved here. He was in town and wanted to catch up and, well, I guess old habits die hard."

Morton asked, "it's not the first time?"

Ryan shook her head. "The thing is I know what he's like and I still let it happen. I use to tell my dad I didn't want to go to functions I knew he was going to be at, but he made me go anyway. And I couldn't tell him why I stopped liking Kurt; I knew he'd never believe me. Kurt's dad was one of his best friends and to tell them something like that would have ripped that friendship and family apart. I use to be able to pretend that it never happened in the first place, you know, but then I realized that he never thought about it at all. He never thought about it and I think about it every single day."

She stopped for a moment to brush away the tears that were threatening to spill. Chip put his hand on top of hers and rubbed small circles on the back. It was a small, reassuring gesture and she continued with her thoughts.

"It started when we were in high school, and even though I knew it was wrong, I was just so desperate for someone to like me that I let him do it. I remember shortly after we broke up I was watching the news with my dad, and a story came on about some girl that was being abused, and I remember he said that stuff like that doesn't go on in this day and age unless the person asks for it. How was I going to tell him that it happened right under his nose? He had no sympathy for a stranger; he wasn't going to have any for his own daughter that knew better. I never told him when he was alive and I've never told my brother or sister. When we all get together, I just pretend that there isn't a giant elephant between Kurt and I, and they think everything's fine."

Chip closed the distance between then and wrapped his arms around the usually feisty assistant. With a conviction like he never had before, he whispered in her ear, "if he ever, _ever_, tries this again, I don't care what time it is, or where you are, you have my number on speed dial; you call me and if you can't kick his ass, I will. And I know a whole crew of guys that will form a line just to get there shot at him."

"You can't fix broken," was the soft reply,

Morton looked her straight in the eye; no judgment, just silent reassurance. "Actually broken is what you fix. If you want me to talk to your family about it, I will. Or we can go with plan B."

"Plan B?"

"We shoot him out a torpedo tube."

A ghost of a smile passed Ryan's lips for the first time that day. "I'll think about it."

He decided to spend the day at Ryan's place. He figured she'd do better if she wasn't alone, and when he heard that Kurt was going to be in town for a few days, he figured it wouldn't hurt to stick around just in case he decided to drop in again.

The sun was shining on that beautiful Saturday morning and Lee's red cobra was parked downtown across some rather high-end shops. Crane was sitting in the driver's seat and Chip was standing beside him leaning against the car. His eyes were glued on the door to the shopping complex.

He hadn't told Lee everything that Ryan had told him; just that an old boyfriend was being a jerk and she felt the best solution was to try and drown her sorrows in booze. It was the truth, just not the whole nitty-gritty personal truth.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked Lee. He knew once Chip made up his mind about something, there was no changing it, but it was his duty as his friend to offer an easy out.

"Yep," Morton replied as he pushed off from the car and walked towards the man that had just exited.

"Kurt Nest," the exec called out as he approached the man. One of the perks of having a friend that worked for an intelligence organization once in awhile was being able to locate civilians when you needed.

"Can I help you?" the young man asked, uncertain who the man was requesting his attention.

"Chip Morton," supplied the XO as he shook Kurt's hand. After the initial handshake, Chip didn't release his grip, rather he tightened it as he leaned closer to Kurt.

"I'm a friend of Ryan's, and I wanted to let you know if you ever lay a hand on her again, it's going to be your swan song."

"Excuse me?" a bewildered Kurt stammered; not sure what to make of the situation.

"You see that man over there?" Chip said as he pointed across the street to Lee who waved back. "That man has a licence to kill, and I serve aboard a sub, and let me tell you, there are miles of ocean in which to dump a body. I just thought you should know that."

Kurt simply stood there flapping his jaw like a fish.

Not wanting to waste his time on such a low life, Morton released his hand, smiled and wished him a good day. He got in the car without saying a word, and he and Lee drove home satisfied that one part of the situation had been dealt with.

The end.

* * *

Thank-you for reading.

Super big thanks to B for being my beta!


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